


Thy Will Be Done

by FormlessSnow



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Bathing/Washing, Begging, Bondage, Bubble Bath, Consent, Edging, Explicit Consent, F/M, Femdom, Hand Jobs, Handcuffs, Hotel Sex, Lube, Male Submissive, Mental Health Issues, Mild Painplay, Nipple Play, Non-Penetrative Sex, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Oblivious Pete Wentz, Orgasm Delay, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Original Character(s), Overstimulation, Past Drug Addiction, Praise Kink, Referenced Discussions, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safeword Use, Safewords, Sensation Play, Sobbing, Sobriety, Subspace, Vibrators, Wax Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 02:47:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20941022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FormlessSnow/pseuds/FormlessSnow
Summary: Gerard's struggling with sobriety. It's hard to be stuck in your own head with no distraction. Pete obliviously introduces him to a woman who can help.





	Thy Will Be Done

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the Sabaton song "Fields of Verdun". I know, not too sexy, but it was stuck in my head.

The oddest thing about Eve was that she didn't flinch as Pete ranted to her. She was a good listener, in the small man's far-from professional opinion. She sat and looked at him, letting him explain his thoughts until he had nothing left to confess. Her small, perceptive eyes never wandered from his. Her gaze soothed him at the same time as it could disturb him.

This sense of fulfillment he got when listing the problems with his life was what led him to introduce her to Gerard.

Eve's hidden tactics bled into her aesthetic. Her paper-pale skin rivaled Gerard's. One of her long, dark curls was braided with silver thread that wrapped around and framed her sharp, angular face like a crown. Her eyes, set in stone and emerald green, judged everything according to a standard that nobody knew but all around her wanted to conform to. Even without her tight-black boots, she was taller than Andy and Pete; with the added heels, sculpted like daggers at the bottom of the thigh-highs, she was easily taller than Gerard. Maybe not Gabe, but then, Gabe was a giant. The silhouette of her calves was visible in every step she took.

Her inked denim shorts left nothing to the imagination, torn off a few inches above the faux leather clashed with skin. Her shirts were nearly all ragged black crop tops with everything from puff-paint logos to mascara-laced tears on bleach stains to a single letter embroidered in platinum and ripped to shreds. A signature of hers was her unzipped, faded jacket with its three cracks and polished buttons that only made it easier to see her tattooed abdomen. This carried off-stage, just like her liquid eyeliner outline of the bags under her eyes; her black lower lip and the shining metallic of the upper one, her eyelids mirror-like.

The way she collapsed on the couch as Pete dragged Gerard into her dressing room before their shows was relaxed, but to the other singer, it screamed, "Grovel and earn your cigarette burn." She looked up at Pete, and smiled, a genuine one that made Gerard feel like dying.

"Hey, Eve, how are you?" Pete asked, sitting down across from her,

"I'm doing great. First show of the season, and here. I feel good about it." Her voice was soft but powerful, and Pete's matched it with enthusiasm.

"That's great! They'll love you, I've been here before, the crowds here are wild. I bet you'll love it."

She grinned. "You sound happy. You're doing well?"

"Of course I am. Um, but I was wondering... You're good at bringing someone back into their head, right?"

"Natural talent. If I can help the notorious Pete Wentz, then I have something to fall back on."

"I was wondering if, like... You could do the opposite. Like, the converse?"

"You remember exactly that from geometry and nothing else."

"Well, yeah, but does it apply to people? For you, at least?"

"I'm not tearing you down, Pete, that's your antifans' job."

"No, not me." Pete looked at Gerard.

"Me," Gerard squeaked.

Eve scrutinized him. "Pete, go find Patrick. I don't care what you do beyond that."

Pete nodded, leavng, oblivious at the time as to what he'd just set up. Of course, Pete wasn't always so naive; but today, he was concerned, and high out of his mind, and more concerned with words than second meanings. Either way, Eve only knew one way to evaluate Gerard, and that was to talk. Methods of fixing would come after.

"You're jumping out of your skin. Sit down. Relax." She nodded toward the chair. It had recently been occupied by her drummer, but he'd gone off to do who knows what. "What's wrong with you? Why do you want out of your head?"

"Just for a little." He sat down, forcing himself to go lax. "But I got clean. And it's excruciating sometimes. Everything is slow, and painful, and sometimes... There's an urge, and I can't place ti. Pete says when Patrick's not around for him to talk to, or sick of his shit, you put him right."

"I try. I don't think you know, but my back up was therapy. I think you should know that your brain will behave quite differently from Pete's. I can figure you out, and how to help you. But I don't think you need what I provide Pete."

"Which is?"

"An ear that'll put up with things Patrick won't or can't, put up with. Basically, I have to sit here and watch him figure it out, or guide him gently back into his head. You... You need to be set adrift, right?"

"Uh... A bit. I mean, I can't go overboard like I used to. I can't even be on a party floor, not after..." He sighed.

"I get it. Even once the withdrawal ended, you need the high. There are better, healthy ways of getting a break from yourself, Gerard. You can't dissociate through every moment of every day. However, you aren't going to fall back into those patterns if you escape in a healthy manner at times."

"How can I do that?" he asked. His pupils were blown; he obviously wasn't completely new to the idea of being the more submissive partner, or at least was horny.

"We don't have time before the show. But after the show, you and I can discuss it further." She sat up, looking at him. "Would you like to watch from the wings?"

"Yeah." He followed her and watched from afar as Eve stood at the mic, a shining guitar that she had designed and helped build herself. It was beautiful, with sharp angles and a curved end, shaped like the rear of a wasp. (This was the source of the name Sting.) Sting was almost part of her, and though she was extravagant, Eve's guitar was just for rhythm.

Part of Gerard appreciated the music. Fast, angry, _alive,_ and it was contrary and Eve's voice was lovely. She sang some pieces like they were lullabies, crooning the crowd to sleep. Other sections of the concert were screaming, biting, clear words that said, "Fuck you, fuck my pain, let me dominate you instead." Others were some mix that kept Gerard ready for her to talk to him, to take control.

After the concert was over, Gerard was amazed that she still looked almost exactly as when she stepped out of the dressing room. He followed her, waiting, watching. Wondering.

Eve did little in the way of removing her stage persona. That was to be expected. The guitar was the only thing she wouldn't take into any store. She didn't spend an hour debating scrubbing off her eyeliner. She didn't swap out her puff-paint crop-top for a worn-out Misfits tee, like he would have. She didn't rapidly unbraid the silver from her hair, or obsessively check that her hair dye wasn't fading or thinning her locks. She didn't strip off those shorts in exchange for the warmth of torn jeans or change from leather to a cardigan. She didn't pull herself out of her boots and slide on a pair of converse. She looked in the mirror to check that her mascara wasn't running; she stretched out to warm down and rolled her ankles carefully.

* * *

Eve, like Gerard and Andy, didn't drink or do drugs. All three of them were away from the party floor, although Mikey, Patrick, and Mel (Eve's best friend and bassist) all went up. Mel and Gerard swapped keys after a short discussion with Mikey about him staying with Eve for the night, and Gerard was now in her room, with his stuff carefully placed in the corner. They had discussed limits and Eve wasn't crossing any as she lay him out on his stomach, shirtless. My Chem hadn't had a concert that day; theirs had been the night before.

Eve's touch was gentle on his shoulders as she started to roll her hands over his taut muscles. His mind stopped wandering. It started to focus on the line she was tracing across his back. The tension he had built from hunching and sulking melted away under her control. On her command, he became well again. He was a puddle of thought now.

"Are you comfortable?" she asked, maneuvering her hands to his spine and starting to press softly. His spine felt tense until she did this, and finally, her hands ripped the pain out of him. He let out a soft groan, then nodded.

"Yes." His voice was headier than he wanted to make it. He opened his eyes, glancing at her.

"Good. I want you to talk to me. I want you to talk to me about what you feel. Before I start doing anything else, remind me our signals."

Gerard sighed, then nodded. "Okay. I promise that I'll talk. Green means go, I'm comfortable with this, with more. Yellow means slow down, I need a change, I need something, to talk. And red means I need to stop."

"And you understand my goal isn't to get you in red, but to keep you in green the entire time?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Take off your pants," she instructed, moving off of him. As he carefully stood to shimmy out of the soft-worn jeans, she repeated his limits to herself, a ritual she always used from the time she started doming.

  1. Please don't call me names. I don't respond well.
  2. Don't pull my hair.
  3. Don't treat me like I'm less than human.
  4. Don't put a vibrator on me if I've just climaxed.
  5. Toys are fine, but be careful, and I don't like gags.

Gerard set the clothes in the corner that held his shirt, then waited for further insruction. She surveyed him.

"Handcuffs or rope?" she asked after a moment.

"Um... Handcuffs, please." Gerard looked at her, and she retrieved them, as well as two strips of black cloth.

Carefully, Eve wrapped the black cloths around Gerard's wrists before clamping the cuffs over the cloths. Gerard leaned back to let her easier lock him down to the bed. He looked her in the eyes, appreciating that she hated blindfolds because honestly, being stuck blind and immobile didn't seem all that appealing.

She set out the small selection of toys she had chosen to use on him. Most of these were his; she had no use for any of it, no desire to use what wasn't her partners'. There was a vibrator, a spreader bar, candles, and lube. Of these, the spreader bar was the only one that belonged to her. She had one last thing that belonged to her se was using, however; a soft, unused blush brush. Well, not unused, but not exactly for make up.

She started with this. She brushed it in slow, long strokes over his skin. He shivered, watching her hands move, because, yeah, it wasn't just the brush. She was running her hand across his skin, then making patterns with her finger. She brought the brush in the same path, and he anxiously waited for this beautiful pattern to form. Finally, she deviated, and Gerard moaned as her hand left and the brush quickly moved over his nipple. He felt the nub harden, tensing, and he felt amazing underneath Eve's whims. He already felt more alive than before. He was less stressed immediately.

Gerard groaned as she made more tiny, quick, slightly harsh strokes on his body, going from his nipples to lining his muscles. Although he hadn't ever had defined abs, she still managed to line them, and he shifted softly as she continued to work over his body. She dipped from his abs to his legs. He looked down, antsy, and she gripped his ankle. He let out a tiny whine.

"Color?" she asked, circling his calf.

"Green," he told her truthfully.

"Do you need anything before we continue?"

He shook his head. "No."

Gerard watched her settle the spreader bar between his legs, carefully tightening the straps so that he wasn't able to close his legs but kept him from losing circulation.

Eve set down her brush. Gerard trained his gaze on her as she lifted the vibrator. She turned it on to the lowest setting. Slowly, she circled his nipple with it, and he made a noise. He tried to meet her eyes, but his already tender skin was stimulated and he threw his head back, reacting to the expert way she worked his body. He hadn't realized just how sensitive his nipples were. She left it there for a moment, then removed it.

"Please," he whined softly, looking at her once it registered that she had stopped.

"It's okay, Gerard," Eve murmured, rubbing his arm softly. "You're doing great. Just give it a minute."

Gerard groaned, looking at the bullet vive. It was light pink, and had multiple settings. He didn't like using it at top level, but this vibrator was his favorite anyway. He wanted it back on his body.

Eve waited almost impossibly long before touching it to his cock. When she did so, he let out a moan and tried to buck his hips. She steadied him.

"You're doing great," she praised softly. "You look gorgeous like this. You sound perfect."

Gerard preened under her words. He hadn't asked her to be this kind; he'd expected her to be harsher, but she didn't seem to be too gentle or too rough. She fit him like a puzzle. When he felt that tell-tale feeling, the coiled heat in his belly, he moaned louder than before, and she pulled it off. He cried out, feeling . his denial spike through him.

She put her hand on his thigh, rubbing circles with her thumb. She waited for him to stop quivering, then spoke.

"Color?"

"Green, green," he . begged softly. He needed more. She waited longer, murmuring easy praises to him. She watched him start to calm, soften, and eventually wane.

She raised the level, touching him with it. He groaned, shifting, arching up into her. He hardened quickly, and all of the itchiness he'd had melted off of him. He lay his head back. His hips jerked, then stilled, just letting it happen.

"You're doing amazing, Gerard," she murmured. "I'm impressed, I knew you'd be goof but I didn't know just how wonderfully you'd behave. You are doing so, so well."

Gerard felt a throb of pleasure as he let the words sink in. He was doing great in her eyes. He wanted to keep being good for her. He liked the way she spoke to him. He sobbed as she started to run the vibrator up and down his cock. It felt amazing, it felt wonderful, better than anything he'd done before. At least, that he could remember before he was close enough to be denied again.

"Please," he whined softly.

"Not yet, Gee, not yet," she murmured. "Not yet, but you'll get to, you just keep doing perfectly."

His hips jerked a little, and she gripped his hip, tightly. He yelped softly, groaning after she stopped. He looked at her, waiting. He wanted, he _wanted,_ and he _needed_ more. He waited for her to speak again.

"Can you try to be still while we continue? It's okay if you don't want to."

"I can try, I can be good for you."

She touched him again just as soon as he had spoken, with a higher setting. She held it just on the underside of his cock, under the head, and he shrieked, entire body trembling as he started to moan, a steady pant, melodic and went to Eve's ears. She smiled at him, murmuring.

"Please, please,_ please,_" he whispered.

"You're doing perfect," she assured him.

"How?" Gerard asked. "I'm... I'm..."

"You're doing well. What's your color?"

"I'm g... Yellow. Slow down, please, yellow.'

She removed the vibrator, and he took a moment to breathe. He took a few minutes, then looked at her.

"I... I don't... The vibrator's too high right now," he whimpered, and she turned it off, rubbing his leg softly.

"Do you want to stop?"

"No. I want... I want more. Just not vibrator, I don't want the vibe..." He shifted softly. "Water, please."

Eve helped him drink, letting him take what he wanted. after, he lay his head back.

"Do you need anything else? Do you want to skip the wax?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I want it. We can keep going."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

Eve picked up one of the candles, carefully lighting it. She waited for the wax to melt some, rubbing his thigh, still. He waited anxiously, meeting her eyes and shivering subtly. he felt the power imbalance, and how she was comforting him, and it held him painfully, preciously in the moment.

After almost too long, Eve tilted the candle, and the black wax burned his abdomen. The sting was delicious, and he savored it, even as he jerked and let out a pained sound. Gerard closed his eyes and shifted a bit, settling in for another fat drop of ebony wax to land. The stark contrast between his snow-pale skin and inky ornament was stunning. He bit his lip, and tears streamed from the corners of his eyes.

"You are... Perfect," Eve whispered, pausing to find the word. "You are amazing, I'm so proud of you."

Gerard let out a noise, a long, low wail that filled the air, and he lifted his hips just a little more. Eve tipped the candle again. The splash sent tiny bits of hot midnight wax over his belly. She traced a small pattern of circles and spirals around his hips and stomach. All the while, she praised him, told him how amazing he was, and listened to him whine happily. After a while, she set the candle down on the bedside table.

_"Please,"_ he wailed, listening as she uncapped the lube and blew out the candle.

"I know, Gee, I know," Eve murmured. "You did so well, it's time for your reward."

"R-Reward?" he asked, then keened as she wrapped her hand around him. He was engulfed in tight, wet heat that like heaven to his neglected length, and he _loved_ it.

His voice reacted as she worked him, twisting her wrist around him. She filled him with pleasure that left him gasping, shifting, trying desperately for more friction. She let him, listening intently to the sounds that escaped his pretty little throat. He opened his mouth widely, a rhythm forming between the jutting of his hips, the tightening of her hand, and the half-formed syllables in his chest.

"P-Please," he sobbed, and she nodded as he shut his eyes tight against the heat.

"Release," she commanded, and he did, with an almighty scream as cum landed on his chest, on the wax still on his abs.

Gerard rode it out, softening and sighing as his head fell back onto the pillow. He looked exhausted; he _felt_ exhausted. She reassured him, rubbing his side.

"You did perfectly," Eve told him. She unfastened the spreader bar, setting it aside like everything else. She unlocked the cuffs carefully. She rubbed his ankles and wrists, ensuring he still had circulation. She bent his fingers, kissing each knuckle softly. He whined a little bit.

"Feel... Tired," he complained, opening his eyes, staring up.

"I know, Gee, we've got to get you cleaned up. Then you can sleep."

Gerard let her take him to the bathroom, where she started the water. She carefully removed the wax from his body, and his knees shook as he tested the water.

"Hotter, please," he requested.

"Okay." She obeyed the request, making it warmer to satisfy his taste. He let her slide him into the tub, relaxing softly. She rubbed his back and side as he relaxed.

Gerard's eyelids fluttered when she shampooed his hair. Eve's gentle side came out as she washed him. He let his head fall against her thigh when she started to rinse him off. He smiled lazily.

"You're good at this," he stated. "I feel safe with you."

She hummed. "That's my goal, sweetheart."

He preened, and shortly after, he was brought out of the water. She wrapped him in a warm, cozy towel, then blowdried his hair. She, too, washed, and once both of them were clean, she dressed him in soft, fluffy pajama bottoms and crawled into bed in short shorts and a T-shirt bra. Gerard needed skin-to-skin warmth. He savored Eve's scent, the closeness, the songs that she hummed as she rubbed his back and shoulders. He was grateful that she felt equal with him. He slowly fell asleep, crossing his wrists behind her back as she cradled him close.

* * *

In the morning, Gerard woke being pet. Eve was still there when he decided to open his eyes, kissing his forehead until he was ready to rise. She took him downstairs for breakfast, carrying his plate for him so he could steady himself while his legs started to work again. He was sleepy and still shuffling a little, with a much clearer mind. After they all had eaten and packed up, Gerard was able to stay relaxed for far longer.

Pete remained blissfully unaware of what exactly had happened, but he did seem glad that Gerard felt better.


End file.
